


Climb and Drag

by MrMissMrsRandom



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War, Fire Emblem: Thracia 776
Genre: Childbirth, Gen, Parent and Child focus, References Deetvar's Learn to Fly Series, Set between Jugdral Gen 1 and Gen 2, somber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 21:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21204203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMissMrsRandom/pseuds/MrMissMrsRandom
Summary: Even after her life falls apart, Deetvar hopes she can gather one for her daughter, regardless of the odds.





	Climb and Drag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deetvar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deetvar/gifts).

When Misha was born after nearly a day of labor, Deetvar thought she would reach for her lance and end herself before she could endure anymore. And, honestly, when she was brought to her before her first wash, wailing and covered in blood, looking less like an infant and more like a small creature that crawled out of hell. Baby pegasi were cuter, even covered in fluids. 

But after she woke up from a long, long nap, she looked down to find, surprise, a clean baby swaddled and warm in the crib next to her bed. She couldn’t move yet: they brought in a cleric with a Heal Staff, Deetvar could faintly recall, and below her waist still felt a little numb. She reached out her finger, feeling the baby’s cheek. It was warm and soft. One of the softest things she had ever felt. She looked back at her callused and scarred hands and had a strange thought. 

_ How could something that soft come from me?  _

* * *

The first feeding came, and she took it back. Misha was a ravenous little beast, and she was forced to wear loose-fitting tunics both to alleviate pain and to make her milk more accessible. Her body still ached from the birth and the nursing compounded it. 

But, seeing over the days how Misha group plumper, her voice getting stronger, the little tufts of hair that curled over her forehead like moss on the bark of a tree, she felt more assured that she could provide for her. 

* * *

She didn’t tell Carina, her only friend left in Silesse, and probably all of Jugdral, who Misha’s father was. It would only put the baby in more danger. However, when the murkiness of the newborn’s eyes gave way to bright, brilliant green, Deetvar was filled with a strange mix of joy and dread. 

Of course,  _ of course _ , she would have his eyes.

Forseti’s influence ran strong. Dynasties would fall, princes would turn to ash, but holy blood remained. 

After fighting in a Civil War amongst a family that all argued their claim to the throne based on such blessings, she wished her daughter a life with no part in it. 

She wanted a life for Misha that held all the freedom her father had long wished to possess. 

* * *

Seasons passed. Though it was difficult to discern the changes in the north, especially as far as they were in Thove, Deetvar could tell the signs: the days grew long, the nearly permanent snow turned into a slurry of mud and ice along the dirt paths, and sprigs of wildflowers peeped out through the blanket of white like shy maidens. 

By the next winter, she stopped producing milk, but Carina, thankfully, had a little one of her own, and plenty to give as Deetvar attempted the difficult process of weaning her girl from the breast. Difficult for Misha, but much easier for her. She had already gone back to her usual old military uniform, now repainted and altered, so as not to stand out from the other mercenaries.

An old soldier looking for work was one thing, an Angelic Knight was another. It was too easy for her to imagine revealing her credentials and then coming out of it with her head on a pike, kept preserved for weeks in the icy outside and cloudy skies. That was what Daccar used to do to “loyalists” among the ranks. She had escaped that experience before and was not especially eager to be placed in that situation again. 

The opportunities were sparse, but lasted long enough for her to squirrel away savings for the next between period. She wouldn’t be a freeloader on Carina’s generosity when times were hard, and would only get worse if Grannvale had a say. 

This next one though may prove more longlasting. Guard duty, for one of the noble families. Not a founder, but they made their fortunes with a trade agreement with Miletos, and a past king granted them nobility for their contribution. Silesse may have been, until recently, more isolated, but that didn’t mean its denizens would not crave exotic imports. 

The downside was that she would have to move into the household, and there would be no room for her and Misha. She couldn’t take a one-year-old into a barracks. She talked it over with Carina. Reluctant at first, she eventually gave in. 

“It’s not the money,” Carina started, and she was one of the few people Deetvar would believe could say that and mean it. “Misha and Hermine get along wonderfully. It’s more that.. you’ll work to the schedule of a lord again, a collected force. And with times like these, furloughs may be few and far between.”

Deetvar agreed. Though some of the mercenary work was more dangerous, as long as she did the job, she would be paid. This was more regimented, but also offered benefits. The house remained neutral, so there was also no risk of someone recognizing her and wanting to reopen old wounds. If she lasted a year or two at the job, then perhaps Misha could move in with her. She had to think about the future now, not just herself. 

“It’s my best shot right now,” Deetvar replied. “I can’t rely on your kindness forever--”

“Oh, hush. We grew up together. Do you honestly think I hold a grudge?” 

Deetvar, for the first time in a long while, smirked. “Fair.”

“...But, if you are worried… are you certain that Misha’s father is… gone?”

The grip on her mug tightened.

“Yes.”

“Because if not, maybe he could offer some support--

“Rina.” Deetvar said tersely. “He’s not here. He will never be here. Misha is my daughter and my responsibility.”

“... Right. You’re right…” Carina sighed. “I just… isn’t it lonely, for you?”

A song, soft hands, a laugh like a summer breeze.

“... It doesn’t matter how I feel about it. It has to be done.” 

* * *

The day before she left, she took Misha riding for the first time.

“Misha, you remember Shion, right?” Deetvar said quietly.

“...” Misha nodded, face to face with the large eye of her mother’s steed. Though she didn’t speak, you could tell she understood and raised a small, mittened hand to pat his cheek. Despite being a war pegasus, he was calm and didn’t jerk at the presence of this small creature. Maybe because she smelled like her mother, he could already tell they were all family. 

“Would you like to go for a ride on him?” 

Misha immediately clutched her mother’s shoulders, now fearful. 

Deetvar chuckled. “Not alone, silly. I’ll be with you.”

“...” She looked up with her big green eyes, trying to tell if she was telling the truth, then nodded. “Okay…”

“That’s my brave girl,” Deetvar replied, honest in her admiration. She hadn’t gotten in the saddle until she was eleven, and it had taken her more than a month to feel comfortable commanding them to take off. “Let’s go.”

It was only an hour, but through it all, Misha never cried, only stared and sighed in wonder as the world lay below, and the heavens seemed to belong to them in all their majesty. 

Deetvar was assured that Misha belonged among them, just like she felt she now was. The sky and winds would be her domain, her refuge. If there was one thing she gave her daughter, she hoped it would be this knowledge. 

* * *

She left the next day.

And never came back through the door again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took so long to officially publish this Lance. You're a great friend and I hope you enjoyed this fic.


End file.
